


The Best Laid Plans

by SecurityBreach



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Feels, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Photography, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Regret, Sad, Sad Ending, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 21:02:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22004413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecurityBreach/pseuds/SecurityBreach
Summary: Thor finds some unhealthy coping mechanisms while dealing with his mental health issues.
Relationships: Loki & Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 89





	The Best Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silver_drip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_drip/gifts).



> Thank you, silver, for creating the Marvel Fanworks Previews-server on discord! Since this is the first work I finished since I started using it, I thought it's only fair to gift the fic to you 🤍 I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> This is a fill for this month's prompt, 'photo'.

Thor had never been familiar with the concept of regret or feeling sorry for what he had done: being treated as a favourite son by his royal parents all his life and worshipped as their _Golden Prince_ by a whole realm of godlike beings can do this to a person.

But when Tony Stark, a mere mortal from Midgard, introduced him to the concept of photography, something snapped inside of the God of Thunder.

_How can it be,_ he mused while mustering the small device in his hands, _that by just pressing a button, I can preserve a moment for eternity?_

Thor knew what art was. He had grown up in the royal palace of Asgard and both his late mother and brother had been famous patrons of the arts. The walls of his former home had been lavishly decorated with stunning frescoes and he was used to the smell of fresh paint and seeing the artists at work. And that, it seemed to Thor, must be the difference: the making of a wall painting took a lot of time as well as some real effort and was often performed by a large group of workmen. All this hard work, the Thunderer figured, was bound to show a result. _This_ _apparatus, on the other hand…_

Gently, he pressed the button once more and waited a second or two before looking at the display. And yes! It had happened again: the lady who had just disappeared around the corner was still there, frozen in a random moment in time yet looking careless and alive.

Thor’s mind was racing now. He lifted Stormbreaker, his trusty enchanted battle axe, and prepared to travel to his new home in Tønsberg, Norway, where he owned a house. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in months and found it hard to focus on the things he had to take care of. But this new idea that was rapidly taking over Thor’s brain ever since he’d taken his first picture gave him fresh energy and a new perspective in life.

On arrival, the god ignored his housemates, hurried into his room, closed the door behind himself and grabbed a beer and his laptop: he had some research to do and absolutely no time to waste.

Thor soon found what he was looking for. The internet was another concept Tony Stark had recently introduced him to, jokingly calling it ‘the net of the inter’ while explaining how to use it. Thor had no idea how the thing worked, but he was a supporter of the idea that Midgardian science was more or less the same as Aesir magic. He remembered how his late brother, a great sorcerer who effortlessly conjured up illusions and knew a lot of tricks, always used to roll his eyes at him for this while calling him _a superstitious oaf_. Thor closed his eyes and, for a moment, he saw Loki sneering at his lack of knowledge again. Only too quickly, the image started to blur, fading back into the shadows of Thor’s mind where it had come from.

The god sighed, drank some more beer, and accessed the first site he considered promising after typing in ‘photo’ and ‘dead’. Site followed site and he just couldn’t believe what he was reading. But the pages also had photographic evidence, and although Thor himself knew that he wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, he knew better than going to war with the obvious.

Thor’s first search was soon followed by another, featuring the term ‘ghost photography’ and later, ‘haunting’ and ‘necromancy’. At nightfall, Thor was certain he had found the solution to his problems.

_So if Midgardian science equals magic, their technology must work like magic objects do,_ he reasoned, thinking on how the dwarfs of Nidavellir used their supernatural abilities to enhance their ironwork and give it magic properties. Reaching out for more beer, Thor leaned back in his chair and considered the plan that had just occurred to him. He would travel around Midgard and visit the places where Loki had shown up during his doomed attempt at invading the realm. On his list were the S.H.I.E.L.D. research facility where Loki had first arrived, the town of Stuttgart in Germany, and New York City where 74 people lost their lives to Loki’s Chitauri army. According to the Midgardian theories Thor had found on the internet, his brother's soul was bound to be still out there somewhere, haunting the scenes of these traumatic events.

_And perhaps I shall find some peace too when I’ve found him with the help of Tony's machine._

Thor had thought he'd seen Loki die three times and twice, his brother had returned. First, when Loki let go of his hand in desperation and fell into the abyss surrounding Asgard. The second time had been on Svartalfheim, where Loki was cruelly skewered by Kurse’s blade. And the third time? The time Loki hadn’t returned? Thor still trembled when he remembered the scene on the starship and his last words to Loki: ‘You really are the worst brother’.

Once again, Thor saw the expression on his brother’s face and the unbelievably small knife that suddenly appeared in his hand. And the broken body on the floor, only a minute later.

Now Thor couldn’t sleep any more because the echo of his own words was keeping him awake at night. Over and over again, he heard himself saying those cursed words. He spent his days gaming to shut off his mind and self-medicated with huge amounts of alcohol to silence his feelings of guilt, regret, and eventually the sound of his own voice.

_Just come back, Loki,_ Thor thought, feeling deep remorse. _I promise I’ll welcome you as a friend this time._

These days, the God of Thunder was only a shadow of himself; his fingernails were bitten to the quick, his long blond hair was unkempt, and his beard was dirty. He had gained so much weight, even his most ardent admirers had difficulties recognizing him.

Thor turned away from his computer, picked up the device again and looked for the picture Tony had taken of him. Feeling numb, the Thunderer stared at himself. ‘This has to stop,’ he said out loud. ‘I may not be able to wield magic, but I have always been able to handle magic objects like my mighty hammer Mjolnir and Stormbreaker the Battle Axe, and Tony’s apparatus can’t be much different. With it's help, I shall find you, brother, and make you live again. And together, we’ll restore Asgard and bring back all the people we lost.’

He wondered briefly if he should tell his housemates about his discovery, but then he remembered a crate of whiskey he had secretly stored away in his room. Today’s events called for a celebration which clearly meant that something better than a few litres of beer was in order. Thor took a bottle and drank directly from it. He wasn’t good at doing housework (and neither were his housemates) so he’d stopped bothering with glasses long ago. Food was eaten straight from the package, too.

_Loki has always despised messiness and is surely going to scold me for it, but I can explain,_ he told himself _._ Then Thor fetched a second bottle, blessed his Aesir constitution which allowed him to consume considerably larger amounts of strong drinks than any Midgardian could handle, and settled down on his unmade bed.

While the alcohol flooded his system, Thor thought on all the exiting things he would tell his brother and imagined how happy they would make him. Thor simply couldn’t wait for Loki’s sly smiles and witty remarks. Suddenly, all the bad things that had happened came back to Thor’s mind too; this made him grab a third bottle, and, not much later, a fourth. But in the end, even his superior tolerance to alcohol couldn’t process the amount of drink any longer. ‘I’m sorry, Loki,’ he finally whispered just before passing out.

When Thor woke up the next morning, he had forgotten about his great plans. He felt terribly sick and all he wanted was to drown his hangover in a beer or two. Since he had used up his stock, he decided to go downstairs and pay a visit to the kitchen to see if some was left there. ‘Someone needs to go shopping today,’ he thought and groaned at the idea.

‘Here, buddy, guess who’s online!’ one of his housemates called out from the living room as Thor returned from his trip to the fridge. ‘It’s NoobMaster69.’

Beer in hand, Thor eagerly joined him to battle his old enemy, ignoring the nagging feeling that he had something important to do and much later, back in his room and drunk again, he wondered at his strange browsing history from the night before. _I’ll figure it out tomorrow_ , Thor thought before going to bed.

But no matter how hard he tried, it never made sense to him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading my fic! Would you like to comment or leave kudos? I'd really love to hear from you.


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